Hello, My Name Is 'Second Best'
by His Little LabRat
Summary: Kyle's only second best. Or at least, he thinks so. one-sided!Style or K2? Choose your OWN ending!
1. Out To Lunch

Ah…

Another day, another day... every day brings you new chances, right? Or, at least I think so. Every day is another story different from the last. There are new words & new twists in the writing that you never expect, a new climax & a new riddle to solve before you get to the end of the book. One riddle to solve every day & a new experience to add to the book. With the experiences, there are more characters & more problems to work your way around.

Though, a lot of the problems are shared by other people.

So none of this is new. Is there originality? I'm not sure anymore. I'm sure there is a story just like mine out there somewhere. I'm sure they've already gotten over this problem & have gotten the exact same results I'm predicting.

"Hey, Kyle!"

I turn around instantly. I can recognize your voice any time, any place, Stan.

You're jogging down the hallway to me. I grin at you as you wave like an idiot toward me, then turn to shut my locker. Turning back, you're right next to me. We do a little 'secret handshake' thing that only we do because we've always been a little dorky like that, and then you lope an arm over my shoulders.

"Sup, Stanny-boy?"

"Sup, dude? Wanna hang out?"

I roll my eyes. Why is that even a question? You're my super best friend, you already know the answer. When do I not want to hang out with you? "Duh!"

"Awesome," you say and then pause, turning your head to look at me as we start down the hallway of this goddamned high school. "I think we should go and eat." I look up at you curiously.

"Lunch was only a little while ago, wasn't it?"

You shrug. "Still hungry."

I can't help but laugh. "You're starting to sound like Cartman."

"Shut up," you counter, but we both laugh loudly.

I grin, then elbow you in the side. "I'll go if you're buying." I tease. You tease back. Normality.

"Fine, but only if the girlfriend drives," you say, tossing me the keys & smacking my ass in good sportsmanship as you run away. I chase after you. Don't you goddamn joke with me about that, though. I know it's a joke, but I don't wanna lie to myself about you. Not about you.

"Fine, I'll drive!" I shout after you. "But you're still paying for gas and lunch!"

You laugh and grin widely. I can't see you grin, but I know that you are. I expect it. "Works for me!" You boast loudly, as usual. I like you. Er, no, I meant, _how_ like you…! No, who am I kidding? I do like you. I won't lie to myself.

We speed down the highway. No one else is really alive in this hick town anyway this late after school. You had sports, I just like to stay after because it's quiet.

As soon as we get to the old diner modeled after the 50's, we seat ourselves. You pick our usual table; the booth next to the window to the right of the door. You sit on the left, across from me, as I sit on the side closest to the door.

Across the way, our usual waitress smiles at us. "Be with you in a minute, guys!" We nod at her. She smiles, then turns back to the family she's currently serving, the only other customers here right now.

Quickly, you put your hands up on the table by resting your elbows on the faux-wood surface. "So, dude," you say and I know you're gong to tell me a story by the way you're sitting up in your seat and leaning toward me like you have an absolutely this-is-a-big-secret secret to tell me, by the way you're folding and unfolding your hands and licking your lips like they're dry. I expect it. And I know. "Today, in lunch, there was this fuckin' epic food fight, man!"

"Oh, yeah, I heard." I nod at the end, telling you silently to continue.

You lick your lips. Oh, god, save me from staring, please. Then you continue, shifting in your seat as you formulate the thoughts in your head. "Well, Cartman started it with Kenny, but then Kenny disappeared; you know how he is, ya know?" You roll your eyes, then continue. "Well," I can't help but laugh every time you say 'well' now. "You know how Cartman always gets like four lunches?" I chuckle silently and nod. You smile and then continue on with your odd gestures and the story of the day. "Well, Kenny decided it would be cool if he took some of his lunch while he wasn't looking. But, of course Cartman wouldn't have any a that shit, so he, like, tackle Kenny off the table! And then Kenny throws like a freakin' pie at his face, so Cartman, like, jumps back, right?" You make a weird gesture by throwing your fist backwards. You end up hitting the back of the seat, but you hardly notice and you continue on with your story. You're so dense sometimes. But that's what makes you, well… you. "So while Cartman's picking pie out of his hair, Kenny dashes across the caf. What's left of his food, Cartman throws after 'im, and, _bam_! He hits Wendy in the back of the head!" You smack your hands together wildly, symbolizing the pie and Wendy's head.

Ugh, Wendy.

It's not like I have anything against Wendy at all!

But, then again, if I said that, I'd be lying. I have you. Er, no… it's that I _don't_ have you is what I'm saying. That's the problem. Because I'm only second best to you, and I expect I'll always be second best, because that's just how humans are. It's always that way.

But this isn't the time to hold a grudge against her right now, because you're still talking.

"After he called her a dirty hippie or something and laughed at her, she picked her _and_ Bebe's lunches and, like, hurled it right back. So, you know, Kenny just jumps up on stage all of a sudden and yells, 'food fight!'" To what Kenny said, you shake your first like a wannabe rocker at a punk-rock concert, but the expression on your face looks like that of a twelve-year-old at a Jo-Bro concert. Contradictory? I think so.

You continue your story, telling me about how someone threw something at Bebe & broke her water bra. I have to laugh at that. How could anyone not, honestly? You also say that every time Cartman got hit, he took a bite and then threw it back.

Oh, that sounds _just_ like Cartman.

"Sorry about that, guys," our usual waitress says, chuckling. "You know how those little kids are when they order - they order too many things just to screw with ya." She rolls her eyes and we both laugh softly. "So, what're you guys gonna have, eh?"

I'm about to open my mouth to order, but then you order for me.

"The usual for both of us." Kinda romantic? "And two cokes." Maybe so.

You smile at me like a dork, so I smile back. You know just what I want anyway, so it doesn't matter, really. She nods and smiles brightly, then says she'll be back with our food shortly. Truthfully, she's right - the service here is fast & good too.

"So, where was I?" Your memory was never all that great, but that's okay with me. You get the important stuff.

I shrug. "You get hit?"

You stuck up one finger at me and lean in on your elbows with a smirk on your face. "Only once!" You say with that grin spreading. "But it was only my shirt," you sit back in your seat to pull loosely at the tight-fit black tee attached to your chest. "So I just got another one from my locker after lunch." You would have another shirt in your locker, seeing as you have gym like everyday, basically. To be honest, it's kinda… hot.

Er, uh, anyway…

"Anything else extravagantly exciting?" I ask, smiling.

"Oh! Wendy got hit in the face with pudding - by one of the teachers!" I have to laugh. You do too. First off, it's Wendy. Second, it was a teacher. We're both cracking up.

"Stan?"

You hear your name and look up. Speak of the devil herself. Wendy.

"Uh… hey, Wendy. What's up?" You ask, slightly nervous.

She shrugs. "You?"

"Just hangin' out with Kyle." You smile brightly. My stomach rolls with anxiety. Are you smiling at just my mention or Wendy? Who, I might add, you have gotten together with _and_ broken up with six times.

Shut up, yeah, I count.

"Huh?" Wendy asks, then notices me. Fucking bitch has tunnel vision! "Oh, hey, Kyle!" She smiles brightly. I smile the beaming smile of a class A liar back at her.

"So, uh, Stan," she says, leaning over the table to flirt by putting her boobs on the menu. Dirty flirting whore. "Wanna hang out?" Ugh, bitch! Get the fuck out.

"Uh," you stutter. "You mean… right now?"

"Well, yeah," she says. "What else would I mean?" Shut the fuck up, hippie bitch. Just shut up already.

You seem flustered with your answer.

This means _war._

"Uh, but I…"

"No, Stan," I say. "It's okay if you hang out; go right ahead." My voice is dripping with invisible sarcasm that neither of you pick up on. God dammit. It just doesn't show that much. I'm second best, so it doesn't matter anyway.

I know what's coming. I expect it.

You'll both leave, then I'll just sit here and wallow in my own sorrow; it's okay, go have fun.

You sputter a "protest" at me. She grabs your arm.

I'm only second best, after all, aren't I?

* * *

_A/N:_

_So! If you're looking for the Style ending, it's the second chapter! If you want the kinda K2, one-sided!Style ending, go to chapter three~  
_


	2. Let's End This In Style

I smile brightly as Wendy pulls you up by your arm.

"So, it's settled then!" She practically shouts with joy. Ah, just leave me alone already, bitch.

"Kyle, er, uh… no, wait!" You sputter as you're pulled out the door.

I can pay for our food by myself.

Aside the bell clinging as you both walk out the door, all is quiet in the diner. Even the family on the other side of the room is quiet. How pitiful I must seem.

I look out the window. I see you trying to fight her, but she's got you too tight by the arm. I wish she would just let go already. She's acting like your girlfriend. _Again._

I can't watch any longer. I turn my head away.

I'm second best.

Always have been; always will be.

The waitress comes back with our food. She frowns and sets our food down even though you're gone now. "Where'd Stan go?"

I give a sad smile up at her and point out the window blankly. She leans forward slightly. "I don't see 'im."

I look out, following her gaze. "He was just there…" I shrug. Wendy probably walked you to the other side of the building so you can do things hidden from public eyes. "Oh well, thanks anyway, Hayley."

She looks down at me with a little nod, then glances up quickly and smiles. "Sure, hon," she says, then rushes off with a grin on her face. I watch her go. Gee… she sure bounces back quick. Job requirement or something?

The door opens, the bell rings. I don't care to look up because I know it's not you.

I take a sip of my coke blankly, staring into the brown, carbonated abyss plastered with ice. Boring. Someone sits down across from me and takes a bite of your burger. I look up, straw still to my lips.

"Hey, that's not…"

"Not what?" You ask, a grin on your face. I grin back.

God, I think I believe in you now. You may Stan come back.

Okay, I don't actually, but thanks anyway!

"Not fait," I said and kick your playfully under the table. "You almost left me, dude."

"Hey, you told me to go!" I pout. "Nah, I wouldn't leave ya, dude." Slyly, you tap your foot against mine under the table and don't move it back again. You grin at me. You know.

This isn't "not much." This is a start. And right now…

I'm second to none.

Before we close our eyes and get a little closer, I think I see Kenny pass by in the window.

Yeah…

I'm first after all.


	3. Or Not In Style

Wendy latches onto your arm; I can't watch.

You both leave, though you protest.

Looking out the window, I see that she takes your hand. You let her, like you think you're out of my view now, so that makes it okay. You do this even though you protested on your way out.

I can't look. I don't dare look again.

I put my elbows up on the table and cradle my head in my hands, palms pressed to my eyes. I sniff. I tremble. My eyes burn. My nose starts to run. My throat clenches tight. I do this all because I'm second best, and, knowing you, that's all I'll ever be.

The bell above the door rings. I don't care enough to look up; I know it's not gonna be you come back in, Stan. I expect you're on the other side of this building by now letting that dirty whore mouth plant a big, dark hickey on the side of your neck. Ah, fuck…

I feel someone try to sit next to me. I jolt up. Stan, it's really… not you.

"Scoot over," he says after taking down his hood. Kenny. I scoot over slowly and he throws an arm over my shoulder. That's something you would do. I can't look at him now.

"Looks like you got dumped." He says it so bluntly it hurts. I don't say anything. I bet he can feel me trembling. He raises an eyebrow at me. Well, I can't see to confirm it, I'm too busy hiding and all. But I know he does. I expect it. Predictable. "You cryin'?"

"Crying?" I ask and laugh and smile like I normally would. Like I normally would with you.

I feel myself shaking. I feel the tears well up in my eyes even more now… no, Kyle, no! You're not gonna cry - keep yourself together, you idiot! "No, I'm not…" I keep my head down just so he doesn't see. I can't let him see.

"Liar."

I can't help but look up in shock. I expected him to just brush it aside. Like always. But he doesn't. This isn't something I expected.

"Huh?"

"See?" he says, leaning closer to my face with his. He grabs me gently by my chin to keep me still. For a scrawny guy, he's pretty strong. Or I'm just really weak. Probably the ladder. "You got rejected, so you're crying."

"I was not!" I resist.

"Were too." He resists.

"Was not!" I say and move quickly, pushing him off the booth seat. He grunts as he hits the floor, then sits up and rubs his ass blankly, looking up at me apologetically with that pitiful face that he pulls on me. I instantly feel bad. "Bastard…" I turn around again. I can hear him get up and shuffle around to sit across from me. He sits back and just watches me. That's how he pressures people. I crack.

I sigh an apology. He nods.

"S'cool," he says.

"Hey," our waitress says as she steps up to Kenny & I with our food. "Where'd Stan go?" I look away casually. I hear her whisper an 'oh' as she sets down our food nonetheless. "Get rejected?"

I spin around and look at her, flabbergasted. "How do you people know these things?!" Both she and Kenny giggle. I look between them, then she shrugs.

"I'm a girl," she says with a cute smile as she sets down our drinks and the check you were supposed to pay. Ah, I can cover it this time… "We just know these things."

"Oh" is all she gets as a response from me. Kenny's too busy checking her out to every think of responding.

"Waiter!" Someone calls from across the room from the little family over there and she looks up as if it was her real name. She starts off but waves back at us. "Later Kenny, later Kyle! Don't forget to pay on your way out, okay?" Kenny waves back at her. He was totally checking her out as she ran away.

"Yeah," I say and nod in her direction. "Thanks, Hayley."

I can feel Kenny staring at me again. I look back at him.

"You can eat, you know." I say, nodding at the burger that was supposed to be yours and the coke that was supposed to be yours. But they're not yours any more. And you're Wendy's. I'm second best. I shrug lightly and poke blankly at my food for a moment. "It was supposed to be Stan's, but…"

Kenny shakes his head. "Thanks," he says with a nod. "But you don't need to mention it." Duh, because you already knew, of course.

We eat. We hold menial conversation. We finish eating. We pay up front and Hayley waves good-bye to us as she seats another family that comes in to dine. We leave. We start walking in the cold toward my house. Kenny'll probably hang out with me. We'll play some video-games, do something.

"You know," I say blankly, thinking aloud as Kenny looks at me, pausing in putting his hood up. "I think I'll just have to get over Stan."

"Yeah," he says, dropping his hood. He lifts an arm to rest it over my shoulders. "And go out with me instead."

I roll my eyes. Kenny; always the joker. I push him away and he laughs softly after a moment. I link my hands behind my back, and for a while, I feel a bit better. I walk with a smile on my face and a small spring in my step.

Of course, I'm lying.

I'll never get over this. I don't live in a fucking pansy fairytale world where I can just give up on you all of a sudden. I'd never do that. Unlike you. Well…

Hello again, Stan. You might know my name, but that doesn't matter. You can just call me Second Best.


End file.
